


alleviate my symptoms

by alekszova



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Sickfic, Soft Gavin Reed, connor is Unamused., gavin is also a jerk, me: WE EATIN GOOD, me: writes fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23834503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alekszova/pseuds/alekszova
Summary: Connor is sick, Gavin comes to help take care of him and also throw things at him.
Relationships: Connor/Gavin Reed
Comments: 19
Kudos: 172





	alleviate my symptoms

Something is wrong. Connor wakes feeling off. Like he didn't get any charge overnight. Everything is pulling him down, a dull pain in his head, his body moving slow and sluggish as he gets up from the mattress. His hand comes up, touching his nose and coming away wet.

He's broken. Something inside of him is broken.

Connor reaches for his phone, dialing Hank's number as quickly as he can. He left early this morning for work. He doesn’t remember waking up to the sound of him leaving. Hank isn’t particularly quiet, never really has been, and Connor is a light sleeper. Something CyberLife installed in his software when they were creating him. When he shuts down to charge, he needs to be able to wake up fast just in case.

"Connor? Is something wrong?"

"Yes," he says quietly. "I don't know what it is. Something is broken. I'm broken."

"Connor, you aren't--"

"I don't mean it metaphorically, Hank. I mean it physically. Can you please come back? I need your help."

"Give me ten minutes, alright? I’m sure you’re fine. Everything will be okay.”

_Okay._ Okay.

  
  


“Well,” Hank says, sitting back. “I don’t think you’re broken.”

“No?”

“No. You’re sick.”

Connor thinks his face must be perpetually stuck now in this version of pain. Eyebrows together, his bottom lip pouting out. He feels whiney and stupid. _Sick?_ But his insides feel like they are struggling to do their jobs, and his head hurts, almost like when the bullet entered his skull three years ago on the rooftop with Daniel.

“Sick.”

“Yes. Sick.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“You have a runny nose and a fever, Connor, and didn’t you hear about the virus spreading between deviants?”

“No.”

“No, of course not, because you’re too busy chasing down cold cases all the time. Just sleep. You’ll be okay. It’ll pass. I can come back and check on you in a few hours, if you want.”

Connor doesn’t say yes, because he doesn’t want to feel more childish than he already does at Hank’s assessment, so he doesn’t nod, but he doesn’t say no either, and he thinks his lack of a true response is being interpreted the way he’d prefer.

“Here,” Hank says, standing up and moving to the window, pushing it open so the gentle spring breeze comes into the room. “This’ll help cool you down.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he replies. “If things get worse call me. We know where Kamski lives. We could go annoy the piss out of him about this.”

“I think I’ll be fine,” Connor replies, turning away.

The thought of being near Kamski, any Kamski, sounds like a complete nightmare. He’d prefer if he didn’t have the reminder of a dead android right now, when his stomach twists and his body shrinks in on itself, like condensing down smaller might help ease the pain.

  
  


Connor looks horrible, and Gavin really never thought he’d say that, because Connor has always managed to keep himself perfectly together in that sort-of handsome _I know what I’m doing_ type of way. The attraction of Connor having his shit together, even though Gavin knows he doesn’t, because he’s been investigating a missing person’s case from thirty years ago, and detectives don’t do that type of thing when they know it’s a lost cause.

Either way, Connor looks like shit now, with a sheen of sweat on his face and surrounded by tissues, curled up small. He’s snoring, which Gavin doesn’t think androids are meant to do, and his breathing comes out ragged and broken.

“Hey, tincan,” Gavin says, tossing a box of tissues at him. It hits him in the face, which Gavin wasn’t intending to do, and the flinch of pain across Connor’s features almost makes him regret it. “Wake up.”

“What do you want?” Connor says, sitting up, pushing the tissues away from him. His eyes are barely open, like he’s struggling to keep himself awake. “Why did you do that?”

“Hank sent me over to make sure you weren’t dead. You aren’t answering his texts.”

“Oh,” Connor sighs. “I’m fine. You can go now.”

“I gave you a present and I get no thank you?”

_“You hit me in the face,”_ Connor replies. “Among other things.”

“What other things? Did I do something to you in your dream? Did you like it?”

“Would you leave?” Connor snaps. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Yeah. I’m helping my sister pack up her place.”

“Then go help her.”

“Hm,” Gavin takes a step forward. “Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do for you?”

“Why are you offering if you’re just going to be a jerk about it?”

“Because,” Gavin says, sitting on the bed beside him. “You know who my brother is, don’t you?”

“No.”

“Well, let me enlighten you,” he replies, taking his phone out of his pocket, swiping through the pictures before he finds one from last year, turning it to show Connor. “You know that piece of shit that invented you? Unfortunately, I share half my DNA with him. I can help alleviate your symptoms.”

“‘Alleviate my symptoms’?” Connor asks. “Is that a euphemism?”

“Well, it _can_ be, but I was being serious. Who do you think helped Eli twenty years ago when he was messing around with roombas in his basement? I know a thing or two about androids, Connie.”

“It’s not physical,” Connor says, looking away from him. “You can’t repair me. It’s a software problem. I ran a diagnostics test a few hours ago. There’s a glitch in my system. The anti-malware program will get rid of it. It’s just going to take a while.”

“So I can’t help?”

“No,” he replies. “But thank you for offering. Though I’m not sure you would’ve followed through on it.”

“Wow,” Gavin whispers. “You really think I would’ve let you be in pain when I could’ve helped?”

“Yes.”

He lets out a small, humorless laugh, “Okay. I wouldn’t, though. I’m not a monster, Con. I’m an asshole, but I’m not a monster. Otherwise I wouldn’t have brought you tissues.”

“Which you _threw_ at me.”

“I didn’t mean to hit you in the face. Just the shoulder. It wouldn’t have hurt that bad if I hit your shoulder.”

Connor smiles. Soft and tiny, yes, but he _smiles_ , and it’s the first time Gavin ever made him do that. And maybe he’s snotty and disgusting right now, but he’s actually kind of cute like this. Which Gavin knew. He’s seen other people make Connor laugh and smile and he’s always had this tiny bit of jealousy, tucked back beside the place that finds Connor attractive. The thing he doesn’t like to dwell on for too long.

“I have to go,” Gavin says quietly.

“To help your sister, right?”

“Yeah. But I can come back. Hank’s going to be busy with the case today. And you know, even if he wasn’t… I could still come back.”

“Do you _want_ to come back, Detective Reed?”

“A little. Just to make sure you aren’t dying. Hank wouldn’t know the difference.”

“But you would?”

“Well, a second set of eyes never hurt.”

“Okay,” Connor says. “Then you can come back. Just to make sure I’m not dying, though.”

  
  


Connor tries to sleep. He dozes in and out, waking up at the smallest sound. The exhaustion is the only thing that pulls him back to sleep again. There’s an ache in his stomach, spreading outwards. He could explain this to himself all he wants--a glitch in his system causing his temperature regulator to drop, or the lungs that help him breathe like a human to malfunction, it doesn’t really matter to him. He’s in pain. He feels horrible. The only thing to save him from this is falling back asleep again. He hasn’t been able to get up today. His legs gave out from underneath him when he went on a search for tissues. Sumo followed alongside him as he crawled from one end of the house to the next like it was a game and Connor didn’t think maybe he was dying after all.

The bed dips behind him, his eyes open slowly as he turns over in the bed to find the form looming over him.

“Go back to sleep, Con.”

“Gavin?” he murmurs. “What time is it?”

“A little after two.”

“You finished packing so quickly?”

“No,” Gavin says. “I told her that you were sick and she said if I was a good boyfriend I wouldn’t be, and I quote this, ‘wasting my fucking time packing a dumbass box of dumbass shit when I’ve got a guy like Connor sick and lonely waiting for me’.”

“She thinks I’m your boyfriend?”

“No. Well…” he trails off. “I talk about you enough that she’s made up her own story.”

“Did you have any part in her thinking it was something romantic, Gavin?”

“Hm? What?”

“You told her I was sick and lonely. You talk about me. Do you have a crush on me, Gavin?”

“No,” he says, scoffing. “ **_No_ **. She’s just hard to talk to. And you annoy me. So I vent to her. That’s how we work. We complain about things to each other.”

“You think her brother had a hand in teaching her that?”

“Well. Yeah. Elijah’s a very angry big brother to have.”

“Oh, blame it all on him?” Connor smiles softly. “You don’t have any anger issues of your own?”

“Maybe a little. But I don’t really want to talk about that, Connor,” Gavin says quietly. “I… uh… I got you something.”

“Yeah?”

Gavin shifts on the bed beside him, reaching into a plastic bag and holding out a small white bunny. It has a tag on it with a bright orange sticker marking it as clearance for two dollars. Probably a remnant of Easter decorations. Connor reaches for it, taking it and holding the soft thing against his chest. A nice change in texture compared to the rough cotton of the blankets and the almost greasy-feeling tissues with their lotion infused into it.

“How thoughtful.”

“I wanted to say I was sorry. For throwing the box at you. Among other things.”

“Thank you,” Connor says quietly. “I forgive you. Only because of the bunny, though.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I tell you something, Con?”

“Sure,” he says, holding onto the bunny a little tighter.

“I really wish I could help you.”

“You can,” Connor says quietly. “It’s really cold in here.”

“You want me to cuddle you and keep you warm?”

“No. I want you to close the window.”

“Oh,” Gavin looks over to it. “Okay.”

Connor watches him get up, closing it and latching it before coming back to the edge of the bed. He doesn’t sit down again, he just lingers there, hesitating.

“Where’s Hank?”

“Oh. Making dinner.”

“At two?”

“It’s Hank,” Gavin says with a small shrug. “That’s what happens when you work late. You make food at two in the morning like a heathen.”

“Are you staying for dinner, Gavin?”

“Yeah.”

“Doesn’t that make you a heathen for eating at two, also?”

“No. I’m not the one cooking a full meal. I would’ve just made ramen or something.”

“Of course you would,” Connor says quietly. “Dinner will probably take a bit, though, won’t it?”

“Yeah. Probably.”

“Do you want to stay here, then?”

“With you?”

“Yes, with me.”

Gavin smiles, “Well, shit, maybe.”

Connor suppresses a roll of his eyes as Gavin moves, making room on the small bed for him. He pats the empty spot like Gavin is a cat and he takes it immediately, laying beside Connor. But the bed is too small, and they are pressed awfully close.

Connor reaches a hand up, touching the scar on his nose lightly, “How’d you get this?”

“Somebody threw a box of tissues at me.”

“I’m serious, Gavin.”

“Bar fight.”

“Did you start it?”

“Don’t I always?” Gavin whispers. “No. I didn’t. A stranger grabbed my ass. I didn’t like it. I probably would’ve been arrested if I wasn’t a cop.”

“Did it hurt?”

“Like hell.”

Connor traces the shape of it, mesmerized by the simplicity of it, containing so much behind it. He thinks, maybe, it’s moving. Then he thinks his sickness is likely getting worse rather than better.

“I’m sorry that happened to you, Gavin.”

“Why are you being so nice?” he replies. “You didn’t take any android drugs, did you?”

“No. I’m just a concerned person. People are allowed to feel sympathy, you know. Or maybe you don’t.”

“I feel sympathy just fine, when they deserve it.”

“You don’t deserve it?”

Gavin doesn’t say anything. But he does bring up a hand, stopping Connor’s from touching him, “There are people that deserve it a hell of a lot more than me, from people that they didn’t try to kill. That’s all.”

“Oh. I thought the bunny made up for that, though.”

“Don’t tease me.”

“Don’t be so easily teased.”

Gavin smiles again, a small thing, and Connor frees his hand from his grip to touch his bottom lip lightly, tracing the curve of it, “You have a nice smile.”

“You really did down a bottle of robo-Nyquil, didn’t you?”

“No,” Connor whispers. “You’re just cute when you’re soft.”

“I’m not _soft.”_

He is. There are no harsh edges to his words, nothing pulling his features into the rough anger that he is so used to. He’s relaxed, for the first time Connor has ever seen him. Vulnerable and open.

Maybe he did take some drugs without realizing it.

“Connor?”

“What?”

“You’re kind of cute when you’re complimenting me,” Gavin says quietly. “So if you want me to flirt back, you should stroke my ego some more.”

“I thought you weren’t soft?”

“No. I’m not. But I’ll accept being cute, if it comes from you.”

“Wow,” Connor says quietly. “I’m flattered.”

“You should be.”

“Do you think…” Connor trails off. “Do you think I’m allowed to kiss you, Detective Reed?”

“Oh. Sure. If you weren’t sick. The snot is kind of a turn off.”

“It’s not snot,” he replies. “Androids can’t produce snot.”

“It’s still gross.”

Connor smiles, “Yes, well... I’m sorry.”

There’s a quiet knock on the door. Connor’s hand doesn’t move from Gavin’s face, but Gavin gets up fast, sitting up like he was caught doing something much worse than teasing Connor about a runny nose.

“Dinner’s done if you want to eat.” Hank looks between them, suspicious. “Anything going on in here that requires a closed door?”

“No,” Connor says quietly. “Do you have a problem if it did?”

“I’d prefer if it didn’t happen _here_ where I could hear it.”

“Nothing’s fucking happening,” Gavin says, standing up. “Shut up. Everyone shut up.”

  
  


He eats in an awkward silence with Hank, who only asks him once if he has any bad intentions with Connor, which he refuses to answer because he doesn’t know what Hank’s qualifications for ‘bad’ are. Just that Gavin was lying beside him? Or that Gavin was really, extremely close to kissing him? Or that he might just fuck around and break Connor’s heart for the hell of it?

He doesn’t ask and Hank doesn’t offer, but when he gets up to go back to Connor’s room automatically, Hank calls after him to _be nice._

He doesn’t know what the fuck that means either.

“Con? You still awake?”

“Yes. Unfortunately.”

“You feel any better?” Gavin asks, closing the door behind him.

“No. It’s still cold.”

“I can ask Hank to get you another blanket.”

“Just come over here,” Connor says quietly. “You were warm.”

Gavin hesitates. He feels his heart beating fast like it’s going to burst. But he steps forward to the bed and pauses only when he realizes Connor is hiding under the duvet in a ball made of a twisted up blanket and a few pillows.

“Connor?”

“S-Something happened,” he whispers.

“Did you piss the bed or something?”

“Do you have to be such an asshole all the time?” Connor hisses. “No.”

“Okay. Well what happened?”

Connor pulls the blanket back, peering at him through a tiny slit. It’s nothing. It’s barely anything at all. And with how dark the room is, only the light from the always awake city streaming through the window, does he see that something’s changed. The skin overlay that androids have, so carefully designed with its pores and imperfections, is gone.

“Wow. You’ve gone full egg.”

“I really hate you, Gavin.”

“Sorry. I shouldn’t tease you, should I?”

“No,” Connor says, and his voice is serious and quiet. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll get you another bunny, okay? There was a blue one. They could be twins,” Gavin whispers. “Are you embarrassed about this?”

“I look…” he trails off. “I don’t know. I feel… _wrong.”_

“You’re an android. This is how you look.”

“It makes me feel naked.”

“I wouldn’t--” Gavin cuts himself off.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You were going to make fun of me again, weren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“What were you going to say?”

“That I wouldn’t mind seeing you naked.”

“You’re disgusting. You’re a pervert.”

“I know.”

But Connor is smiling, and he’s let the blanket fall down a little bit, exposing more of him. There’s little to see, since he’s bundled up in a hoodie, but the sleek white plastic and the soft curve of his lips are enough.

“You know you’re beautiful, don’t you?” Gavin asks. “Even like this?”

“‘This’ being sick or naked?”

“Both.”

“See?” Connor says quietly. “You’re soft.”

“Because I’m complimenting you?”

“Yes.”

Gavin reaches a hand out, touching Connor’s cheek lightly. When Connor doesn’t pull away from him, he passes his thumb over the smooth surface, and Connor turns his face into it, a soft brush of his lips over his palm.

“I think I like you, Gavin,” Connor says quietly. “When you’re like this. I wish you were like this more often.”

He could be. He could try. For Connor.

He only ever tries when there’s someone worth trying for. When he’s alone, when he’s friendless or single, there feels like little point in trying to be a good person.

“Okay,” Gavin says quietly, like it’s a done deal. “I’ll be nicer.”

“Just like that? Just because I told you I preferred it?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. And if I asked you to come closer?”

“I could do that.”

“And if I asked you to hold onto me and keep me warm?”

“That, too.”

Connor relinquishes his hold on the blanket, welcoming Gavin underneath it with him. His arms move around Connor’s body quickly, a hand passing over his spine. He remembers when he was sick, five years ago, and his boyfriend at the time stayed like that with him even though it meant he was going to be ill, too, and the movement of his hand on his back helped ease the nausea. He’d be happy to forget that relationship ever happened, but he knows how nice the comfort is that since he was loved once, he can probably be loved again. That he can do it better this time.

“If I asked you on a date, Gavin, would you say yes?” Connor whispers.

“Oh, yeah, in a heartbeat.”

“How about next Tuesday? Whenever we have spare time?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Connor’s body is fucking freezing cold against his, though. Like an ice cube. Gavin keeps trying to pull him closer, let him steal Gavin’s body warmth.

“You’re not going to die before then, are you?” Gavin whispers.

“No,” Connor replies. “But I… I need to close my eyes now. I can’t… stay awake.”

“But you aren’t dying? For real, you’re not dying?”

“No. I’m not dying.”

He breathes out a tiny sigh of relief. The conviction in Connor’s words the only reason he believes it. The only reason the sick android case made it to the DPD was the question of if someone designed the virus to glitch android systems or if it mutated on its own like the deviant version did. But nobody died. Nobody is going to die.

But Connor is so cold.

“Con?”

“Hmm?”

“Maybe you should kiss me before you go to sleep. Just in case you do die.”

“Shut up, Gavin.”

  
  


Three days later, when Connor comes into work with only the remnants of the cold, he comes by Gavin’s desk and kisses him. It is a simple thing, where he cuts off Gavin’s sentence of welcoming him back. Soft and sweet, short and simple, and then Connor is gone again, reminding him of their date the next day, when he will kiss Gavin much better, and for much longer.

And Jesus.

Maybe Gavin wishes Connor got sick a little sooner, if it wasn’t such a horrible thing to consider. Because Connor is a really good kisser, and Gavin really likes him, and he’s glad he doesn’t have to act like he’s twelve years old anymore.


End file.
